hunger games yugioh style
by Shiera137Faustus
Summary: This is the hunger games with yu-gi-oh! tributes. duh  Need I say more? I changed the summary because it really didnt fit with what I was doing. Anyways, still rated T for tediousness  did I spell that correctly?
1. Hunting

Author's note: heh heh…. I just watched the hunger games movie today (Sunday, march 25, 2012). It wasn't as good as I would have expected, but it was the best (official) movie I have ever seen. Mainly cuz I have only seen two that I actually wanted to. _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Pt 2 _and _Hunger Games._ And, well, I don't really remember most of _Harry Potter_.

Now, on with the story.

I rolled over on my bed to find it empty.

"Ryou?" I forced one drowsy eye open.

"Yes, Bakura?" was the reply I received from the other side of the room.

"Why were you crying?"

He sniffed slightly. "It's the Reaping today."

"Oh, don't worry. Nothing will happen to you. It is your first year." I smiled slightly, adding the next part. "You only have your name entered once. So the odds will be ever in your favor."

We laughed slightly at the little joke.

"I have to go now, Ryou."

"Why? To where?"

"I just have to go. Be good, and don't follow me."

"Okay."

I walked out the front door. Buttercup, or, as I call it, the Idiotic Creature, hissed at me.

"I'm not afraid to kill you and have you for dinner. Our family needs the meat," I hissed back, walking out the door.

The people from the Capitol were already hurrying about, gathering children. Better hurry if I want to get any hunting in.

I strolled over to the border of the District. This is District 12, so there was nothing but wilderness beyond the fence. Wilderness and a hunting ground.

I paused for a moment, straining to hear the telltale buzz of electricity in the fence. Nothing. Good. Like usual, there was no electricity in our district.

Finding the small hole in the fence, I squeezed through. I picked up my bow and my arrow from their special hiding places and continued into the forest.

A small movement caught my eye. Deer.

I took careful aim. It cannot see me. It could not have! But nevertheless, it seemed to sense danger and fled. Picking up some dry leaves and crumbling them, I tested the wind. DAMN. No wonder. The stupid creature could _smell_ me from this position.

I stalked over in thief-like silence until I was in a position where it couldn't smell me. Then a rock flew overhead and startled it off.

I turned around, fuming. "What the _hell_, Akefia?"I snarled.

He snickered in reply. "Tell me, Bakura, what did you plan to do with a deer of that size?"

I kicked at the ground angrily. "Well, for one, it could have fed both our families for an entire month!"

"Fair enough. Tell you what," he stopped midsentence and threw a stone at me.

"What the!" I gave a curse and ducked. The stone flew over my head and into a patch of shrubbery. Out came dozens of birds. I took careful aim and let one arrow fly. It hit its target straight on.

Akefia laughed again. "Here," he said, "I have a surprise for you." He led us to the top of a small hill. There, he sat down and patted the ground next to him, motioning me to follow.

I did so.

"Happy hunger games," he said, turning around for a quick second before turning back with a piece of bread.

"Woah! Is this real?" I grabbed my half from him and inhaled. Mmm, it smells _so_ good!

"It had better be. I paid a fair share of my game for it," he chuckled.

I grinned and placed it in my knapsack.

"Happy hunger games," he repeated.

"And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor," I finished for him.

We laughed and headed back.


	2. The hob

**_Hi! I finally decided to continue the story! _**

**_IT'S RAINING! YAY! WAIT! ITS HAILING/ SNOWING! (if you say that I am crazy, I shall stick my tongue out at you. .)_**

**_*yawn* I forgot where I put the books, so this will be on memory.._**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own yugioh, its plot, the hunger games, and bakura. How I wish I own the last one._**

**_Oh yeah, I am usually too lazy to label the chapter, so…_**

**_dedicated to JelloGirl323, the first reviewer. Thank you! lol, of course, it won't be Tea. In fact, her Japanese twin will be making an appearance in this very chapter... It might be Yuugi, but... I don't know..._**

The Hob. Akefia and I walked into it, slinging our prey over our shoulders. On the way back we had a short conversation. And somehow we had managed to catch some animals while we were at it.

"_We could do it, you know," Akefia muttered softly._

"Excuse_ me?" That was unexpected. Very unexpected._

"_Run off into the woods. Live in the forest, I mean," Akefia continued._

"_Oh," I lowered my head, trying _very hard_ not to show him the telltale blush of what I _thought_ he had meant. After all, there was nothing romantic between us. Hell, for one thing, we were _both boys_. Our conversation ended on that note._

_I shot a curious little rabbit. Curiosity killed the cat, and it can kill you too. Following that came 2 more rabbits, a squirrel, and a bird._

_Akefia checked his traps. A rabbit here, an empty trap, empty again, and a squirrel. Then we went to pick some berries. I found the patch not long ago, but devious Akefia (I swear, he must be related to the devil or some other sly entity) came up with the idea of putting traps around it. It works perfectly._

Rebecca (I was gonna use Malik, but I was like: um… I don't think I am quite ready for gendering bending right now…), the Mayer's daughter, greeted us in the Hob.

"Bakura," she said quietly, fearfully. "Daddy wants to some strawberries, please."

"Remember our price," Akefia shoots back angrily.

"Akefia," I said softly.

"Here…" Rebecca stuffed some money into our hands, more than we charged, and left quickly.

"Nice dress," Akefia hollered.

Rebecca turns around. "T-thanks…?"

Akefia then asked, "Why are you wearing it?"

Rebecca looked stunned. "I want to look my best if my name were to be picked, I guess."

Akefia snarled. "Don't give me that crap. It's not as though you will be picked. How many entries do you have? Three? Four tops, perhaps?" He snorted. "I had ten when I was your age." He stormed off.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "He was acting dumb. It's not your fault, really."

"I know," Rebecca replied. "I should be grateful, but I'm human, and I still fear."

"Happy hunger games," I offered her a thin smile.

"And may the odds be ever in your favor," she said, returning the smile.

I waved, then walked back in to the center of the Hob, where Akefia had already done most of the trades. We received some salt for the bird, two thick slices of bread for a rabbit, and some nice-smelling oils for four squirrels.

We then walked over to Anzu, the old lady who makes soup (lol, right?), and gave her a rabbit. We received two bowls of very thin soup in return. It wasn't our best deal, but Anzu was the only one willing to buy whatever meat we gave her.

Akefia and I parted our ways.

"Wear something nice!" he hollered.

"You too!" I grinned.

**_It's raining, it's hailing, it's a freaking miracle…_**

**_It's April, it's shouldn't have, but, still, it's freaking hailing…_**

**_It's three pages…_**

**_Oh yeah, tell me through reviewing if you want 'Peeta' to be a boy or a girl._**


	3. Preparations

_Hi! I finally decided to continue the story! _

_Lol, thank you JelloGirl323 and Crazed Magician for reviewing. I tallied up PMs, and the total was girls against boys, 3 to 0. So, Peeta will be a girl. ^^_

_I found the book!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own yugioh, its plot, the hunger games, and bakura. How I wish I own the last one. If I did, the school would be in huge danger of being destroyed. Diabound, attack the school! Spiral something something! _

_Oh yeah, I am usually too lazy to label the chapters, so…_

It wasn't fair of Akefia to yell at Rebecca like that, no matter how … different she is. It wasn't her fault she never had to use tesserae. It was just how things were here.

The reaping system was very unfair to the poor. True, all children between ages 12 and 18 must enter their name into the drawings. But here is the catch: the poor could enter their names more times in exchange for food. The rich never had to worry about that. So Rebecca's chance of getting picked was quite thin compared to ours.

When I arrived back home, Ryou and my mother were waiting. Mother had a hot, steamy bath prepared for me too! I slipped off my jacket, then followed the rest of my clothes*.

When I stepped back out, I made sure to wrap a towel around my waist. Securely. Ryou may be a boy, but sure as hell Mother was not.

She had set out some clothing for me. Closer examination revealed it to be a skirt. A RA_-DAMNED_ SKIRT. Ryou began giggling. I frowned.

"What…why…?" I began.

"Akefia, you clothes are set out on the bed for you," called Mother from the only other room in the house (the two were separated by a cloth-thingy to make the house seem better).

"You gave me a dress?" I called back angrily.

"What, Akefia, are you talking about?" replied Mother.

Ryou giggled again. My brain _finally_ decided to work. "Ryou, do you know something about this?"

He shook his head, giggling again.

"Really?" I poked him in the stomach. He started jerking around.

"Here! Here! Here!" he shouted, throwing the clothes at me, dodging away. (I couldn't resist. It was just for lightening the mood).

"Little duck," I called to him, "tuck in your shirt!" During the little skirmish, Ryou's shirt had come untucked in the back and now stuck out in the back.

I turned my attention back to the outfit Mother had given me –

And nearly dropped it again in astonishment.

My fingers trembled slightly. The most expensive outfit that our family possessed, and originally belonged to Father. I quickly turned my attention back to the shirt and pants before I could tear open the memory-wound of Father and sprinkled salt into it.

Mother came in. "To celebrate your safety over the past years," she said quietly.

Ryou's famous smile slipped for a moment and he winced when he heard the reminder of the Reaping, but he pasted it back on quickly.

"Don't worry," I said, more to reassure myself than anyone. "No one in this family will be picked."

Mother's lips stretched into a thin smile. "Lunchtime."

We shared the soup between the three of us, and the tesserae grains as well. None of us were very hungry though.

Sooner than would've been preferred, lunch ended and we headed into the town square. It was terrible how they held the Reaping in the most pleasant place in our district.

People came and went, shuffling in silent lines towards their assigned locations, signing in, and other places. Attendance was mandatory, unless you were sick to the point that you would be dead within a couple of days without the Capitol's help.

Ryou was in the back with the younger children (another factor they got wrong in the movie. In the movie, Primrose was _ahead_ of Katniss), while I was more in the middle. I went along with the flow of the line, glaring defiantly at the Peacemakers and the old idiots who made bets on the tributes, such as who they would be, etc.

I finally arrive in my box, surrounded by a bunch of other 16-year-olds. We give each other faint smiles and terse nods.

Up on the stage were 3 seats, a podium, and two hollow glass balls, one for girls and one for boys.

Two seats were occupied by Mai Valentine, a Capitol citizen (distinguished by ridiculous skin color and amount of makeup), and Rebecca's' father, Mayor Undersee. They murmured quietly to each other, sparing an occasional concerned glance at the empty seat.

Two o' clock arrived and Undersee repeated the history of Panem.

His speech was repeated every year, so I didn't bother paying much attention. It always stressed how the Capitol were like parents, the districts were similar to the children. Because we had been disobedient, the 'parents' must punish us. The punishment was the Hunger Games.

The rules were quite simple: two tributes, one boy one girl, were picked from each district. These two would compete with other children from other districts. They will fight to the death. The last one standing will be crowned victor, and will be showered with riches, and will never have to attend the Hunger Games anymore.

Whatever they said, though, the message was clear: Stupid, insolent fools. Look how we punish you. Your children are dying, and you are powerless to stop. All this without lifting a pinky. Think what will happen if you attempt another rebellion…

The mayor then reads out the list of District 12 winners. In the past 74 years, we have had exactly two. One of them was Atemu Yami, a drunk alcoholic. The other was dead, his name Jonouchi Katsuya.

Atemu staggered onto the stage. The citizens applauded dutifully, but I could feel disgust radiating off of them all. He waved his beer bottle at the audience, spilling some of the liquid in the process.

Undersee looked distressed. All this was broadcasted across Panem, and he knew it. He also knew that, as usual, District 12 was the laughingstock of Panem.

Mai took charge. "And now we shall see who this year's contestants will be! Remember, happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor! For the boys…" She stuck her hand into the glass ball. Akefia offered me a ghost of a smile. The odds were definitely _not_ in his favor. Not with his 40 something slips of paper.

Not me, not me, not me, not me… I thought to myself desperately.

Of course, fate loves to twist your wishes. The name picked wasn't mine.

It was Ryou Everdeen's.

_* admit it. You were just outright _drooling_ by that point._

_I finally posted the next chapter! I made it longer, as was one of the suggestions. If you have any suggestions, please offer them!_

_Every time you submit a review, $15 goes to charity._

_Courtesy of whoever the richest person on earth is._

_Not._

_No, seriously, there is no prize to reviewing._

_Anyways, the city of Panem wants you to review, so just review. It would also make me happy, and might speed up chapter updates. Might. ^^_


	4. The Wrath of Fate

_IM SO SORRY I HAD A LOT OF SCHOOLWORK AND I AM LIKE AN A+ STUDENT SO I HAD NO TIME TO UPDATE ITS SUMMER NOW SO I DO IM SO SORRY! Please don't abandon hope in me. It would kill me!_

_I found the book!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own yugioh, its plot, the hunger games, and bakura. How I wish I own the last one. If I did, the school would be in huge danger of being destroyed. Diabound, attack the school! Spiral something something! _

_Oh yeah, I am usually too lazy to label the chapters, so…_

Once, when I went hunting with Akefia, one of his better-concealed traps knocked me five feet back. The trap was a log connected by a thin wire and somehow got activated by something. I don't know, I was in too much pain to hear his explanation. I just lay there, unable to breathe, to do anything but await doom.

That's how I feel now; unable to move, to scream, to speak. I was stunned into silence. Me, the greatest hunter, stunned into silence. I vaguely remembered feeling a boy's hand gripping my arm. I must have fallen.

_T-this must be a mistake!_ I thought. _Ryou's name was one in thousands. His chances were less than those of Rebecca! I had done everything: taken the tesserae, but refused to let him do the same! One slip. One insignificant slip amidst a sea of others. But cruel mistress fate twisted our futures. She bent it and broke it. _

The crowd murmurs unhappily, as they always do when a twelve-year-old gets chosen. No one thinks this is fair. But does it matter what is fair and what is not? No. The Capital takes children away each year. This isn't fair, but they still do it.

I see Ryou, trying to act brave. But I can see the hints of terror: pale face even paler. Tiny fists clenched into little balls. Pearl-white teeth biting into red lips. The usual smile gone, replaced by a mask of indifference. Bouncy steps replaced by stiff ones.

And his shirt forming a ducktail. He was my innocent little brother. My little duck.

"Ryou!" my dry throat barely manages to rasp out his name. I all but flew onto the stage, shoving Ryou protectively behind me.

"I-I volunteer!" my voice rang eerily over the audience. "I volunteer as tribute!"

Rules state that once a boy/girl's name has been reaped, another of the same gender may step forward and take his/her place. Of course, in District 12, the word 'tribute' means the same as 'corpse'. We haven't had a volunteer in ages.

"Uh…lovely!" Mai stuttered. "Um…I believe that after we pick the tributes, the er…volunteer…may, er, step forward… and um…" She trails off.

"Doesn't matter," the mayor announced. I wondered briefly if he remembered me. The boy who hangs out with her daughter (sometimes); the boy with the strawberries; the boy he presented a medal of valor to, for his father, crushed in the mines. Does he remember? "Doesn't matter," he repeated. "Let him come forward."

Ryou latched himself to my arms. "NO! Bakura, no! Don't go," he cries hysterically.

"Ryou, let go," I said, putting on my mask of indifference. Tonight, when they broadcast the replays of the reapings, I was not to be marked a weakling, an easy target. Weaklings don't survive.

When Ryou stopped thrashing, I turned around and saw Akefia gently prying him off. "Up you go, Baka." He tells me affectionately, though one would not know from his words. He carries Ryou away, while I head up the stage.

"Bravo!" cries Mai, evidently glad to be in a district with action, not caring how it tears families apart. "What's your name?"

"Baku…" my voice came out raspy. I put my mask back on. Immediately my expression became stony, my voice bored. "My name is Bakura. Bakura Everdeen." I was majorly tempted to add 'but none of you from the Capital are worthy of calling me so.'

"I'll bet my place in the Hunger Games that was your brother!"

_No, duh_, I thought to myself. _No, no. That's why we have same last name and that's why I took his place in a death ritual. Idiot._

"Well, let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute! A volunteer of District 12!" Mai exclaims happily.

To the credit of my fellow citizens, not one claps. Not the betting ones, not the sober ones, none. They probably recognized me from the Hob, or knew my father, or perhaps lovely little Ryou. They did the boldest thing they could. They withheld applause, signifying their discontent. Silence. We all disagree. This is all wrong. Damn the Capital. Damn it all to hell.

Then something very unexpected. Strangers, unknown members of the crowd touch their middle three fingers to their lips. Then they hold it out to me. It was an old gesture, usually reserved for funerals (yep, I can see why it was used on me at the particular moment) meaning 'thanks, good-bye, and we admire you.'

Now I was truly in danger. My strong mask, which had held during when my father had died, when Mother had withdrew from society, and overall during all of my problems, was beginning to break. Fortunately, our district drunk, Atemu Yami decided to stagger onto stage in the precise moment.

"Look – look a' him," he said, holding me close in a drunken bear-hug. Ew… "I-"he took a swig of alcohol before continuing. "I li'e this one. Lots o' – lots o' spunk, this one. More – more 'an – more 'an you!" He was at front stage now, waving his alcohol around. Was he addressing the audience, or was he mocking to the Capital itself?

Then he fell off the stage and knocked himself unconscious.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust, but I deep down, I was grateful. The cameras were all trained on him, allowing me time to release a small, strangled cry from my throat.

I could see the hunting grounds, and for a moment, I wished I had run off. But I knew I had made the right choice by staying. If I had gone with my selfish decisions, who would've volunteered for Ryou? No one.

I see Yami whisked away on a stretcher. I see Mai finger her long hair. I hear a name, and the name jolts me back into reality.

"Yugi Moto."

_Oh no_, I thought desperately. _No, please, not _her!

A small, tri-color haired girl* stepped nervously onstage. As much as we had all enjoyed the previous performance, no one was crazy enough to take her place.

The girl who had given me hope. The girl with the bread. I knew I could never be able to kill her in the arena. I knew that most likely I would protect her to repay my debt. No, why her?

_*I know I said I wouldn't gender-bend, but hey, I got a suggestion, and it had the most votes. You wish is my command. *bows*_

_I would've wrote more, but I wanted to update ASAP. ^^ summer break is finally here!_


	5. YUMMY BREAD!

_Disclaimer: no owns hunger games or yugioh, including its characters… _

_Listen to this:_

_Child: mommy! I'm smarter than the teacher~!_

_Mother: oh? Why do you say that?_

_Child: cuz I advanced to 2__nd__ grade after the final tests; my teacher had to stay in first grade!_

_(lol, joke belongs to darkvampiregirl13 or where ever (uh…is that how you spell it?) she found it)_

_Oh yeah, I might go back and fix some mistakes later. Inform me of any and all mistakes! Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will cause very, very delayed updates (not that it makes too much of a difference…) _

_Well, heres the next chapter. Enjoy. (btw, read kuroshitsuji. Awesome manga/anime)_

It was the hardest month of my life. We had received enough compensation money to last us a month, in which time Mother was expected to find a job. But the problem was: she didn't. No amount of pleading, even from Ryou, could get her up.

I was terrified. I had not only lost a father, but a mother as well. I used the money to buy us food, to feed us, to make us presentable. If our situation was discovered by the district, we would be sent to the community home. I had seen the children there before: hopelessness, sadness, anger. They were surrounded by those emotional aura. I could never let that happen to sweet little Ryou. The Home would crush him like a bug.

But money is not eternal. It ran out, and we began the slow process of starvation. I kept telling myself that if we could hold out til May 8, just a few weeks away, I would enter the tesserae and receive the oil and grain to feed us. Only in these weeks, we could well be dead.

Starvation was not uncommon. Jobless parents. Families with too many mouths to feed. Then, one day, instead of straggling through the streets, they end up motionless against a wall or in the Meadow, and the Peacekeepers hurry to take away the corpse. Starvation is never the official cause of death. It was always pneumonia, the flu, or exposure. This fools no one.

That day I had tried to trade away old baby clothes. There were no takers. The rain, pouring relentlessly, had soaked me to the bone, but I would not head home. Home was where Ryou awaited, where Mother awaited, and where starvation hung in the air like a vulture, waiting to strike.

The clothes slipped from my grasp, but I did not pick them back up in fear that I would not have the stamina to stand back up. Besides, no one wants them.

I found myself walking – stumbling – through the streets that serve wealthier families. Families who would never have to face, or even worry about, the predicament I was in currently.

All forms of stealing was prohibited in District 12, but it crossed my mind that there may be something in the trash bins. Which, conveniently, had just been emptied.

I stopped in front of the baker's shop. A warm, golden glow that seems as though it came from heaven spilled out. The smell of soft bread baking was overwhelming, and my stomach growled. I looked into the trash bin to find it spotlessly empty.

Suddenly, from the golden entrance to heaven emerged a witch from hell. (aka the baker's wife) She was screaming at me, threatening to call the Peacekeepers (honestly, at least it would be a quick death. Had I not had Ryou and Mother to take care of I would've accepted that fate with open arms). She yelled about how sick she was of having little brats from the Seam pawing through her trash. The words were ugly and to which I had no defense. Judging from her figure, she had not known a single day of huger in her life.

You try being in my situation, I thought bitterly.

The witch stomped back inside, but not before I caught a glimpse of a girl (with strange, tri-colored hair). A few minutes later I heard a slap followed by a cry. The witch began shouting.

"Useless girl! Feed it to the pigs! No one will buy burnt bread!" another slap. The door opened, and the girl peeked her head out. We made eye contact for a brief moment before she tossed two loaves of bread at me. She then retreated back inside.

I examined the two loaves of bread. Other than the slightly burnt parts, they were perfectly fine. I scooped them up, said a silent thanks, and, hiding the bread so no one would see, hurried home.

By the time I arrived home, the two loaves had cooled somewhat, but the insides were still warm. I forced Mother to join us, poured some warm tea, and began dinner. I had meant to save it, but before we realized what had happened, we had finished off one loaf of bread, just like that, slice by slice. It was delicious; filled with raisins and nuts.

That bread changed my life.

_Yay! An update! *dodges rock* im sorry it took so long…_


	6. Flashbacks and Goodbyes

_Disclaimer: no owns hunger games or yugioh, including its characters… _

_Let me clear something up right now: yugi shall be a girl in this cuz I counted the unofficial votes._

_Well, heres the next chapter. Enjoy. (btw, read kuroshitsuji. Awesome manga/anime)_

_*dodges rock* im sorry it took so long…_

The bread was delicious and I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, the kind I haven't felt for a long time.

It wasn't until the next morning until the thought that the girl had purposely burnt and delivered the bread to me presented itself. I quickly dismissed it though. She probably knew she would be punished a lot more than she knew me. Still, even if it was a mistake, merely giving me the bread was an enormous kindness, one that would not be forgotten in my lake – my sea, of memories.

We ate some more bread before going off to school. Warm, sweet air; fluffy clouds; it was as if spring had arrived overnight.

At school I saw the girl again. Her face was bruised and her eye was black and swollen. I grimaced slightly at the sight. She was with her friends and didn't acknowledge me in any way, but later, when I picked up Ryou, I caught her staring at me. Our eyes met for a second, and I would like to believe that mine reflected my sincere gratitude. Then she blushed (I think; we were kind of far apart) and looked away.

I dropped my eyes as well, and that was when I saw it. The first dandelion of the year. My mind turned to the hours I had spent in the woods with my father, and I realized how we would survive.

To this day I could not shake off the connection between Yugi, the bread of hope, and the dandelion that had reminded me I was not doomed.

Though we hardly spoke to one another, I have often turned around at school and saw her eyes watching me, and I felt as though I owed him. I hate owing people.

Perhaps, had I thanked him at some point, I would not have felt so conflicted, but the opportunity never presented itself. And now it never will. We were about to kill each other, or at least try to. I could just imagine the conversation.

"Hi, thank you for the bread. Know that I will kill you shortly. Bye."

We are about to be thrown into an arena to fight to the death. How am I supposed to fit a thank-you in there? For some strange reason it wouldn't seem sincere when I am trying to slit her throat.

The mayor finished the dreary Treaty of Treason and motions for Yugi and me to shake hands.

Her eyes are as warm as those loaves of bread she had given me so long ago.

Yugi meets my gaze and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I tried to return it, but I think it might have felt more like a nervous spasm.

We turn back as the national anthem begins to play.

Well there will be 24 of us. Odds are someone else will kill him before I can.

I mentally snicker. Of course, odds have not been very reliable as of late.

As soon as the anthem ends we are taken into custody. Of course, if asked, the Peacekeepers would probably claim to be 'guiding' us, as there were no handcuffs involved. Perhaps tributes have tried to escape their fate. I have never seen it happen though.

Once inside, I was led to the richest room I have ever been in. Thick, deep carpets as well as velvet couches and chairs. Thin, golden strands were peeking out between all the fabrics, and a sweet-smelling perfume decorated the air.

It made me want to sneeze.

I ran my fingers repeatedly over the fabric. It helped to calm me down. The next hour would be the allotted time for tributes to say good-bye to family and friends.

And I would not break down then, as cameras would be filming our every action.

I would not appear weak and make myself a target.

Most of all, I would not worry Ryou and Mother.

They were my first visitors. I took a deep breath and turned to face them.

I reach out to Ryou and he climbs onto my lap. Mother sits beside us and hugs us. We stay like this for a few seconds, relishing the silence.

Then I begin instructing them.

Ryou is not to take any tesserae. They can get by – if they're careful – by selling the goat milk and cheese as well as the small apothecary business Mother now runs. Akefia can get them the herbs she cannot grow, but she must be very detailed when describing them, as he is not as experienced with these matters as I.

He will also bring them game, as he and I made a pact on this a while ago, and will not ask for any payment, but they should thank him with some milk or cheese or medicine.

I don't bother suggesting that Ryou should learn how to hunt. The few times I tried to teach him was disastrous. The woods terrified him, and whenever I shot something, he would burst into tears and insist that if we hurry, we could heal it when we got home. But her goat would suffice, so I concentrate on that.

When I am done instructing about fuel, trading, and staying in school, I turn to Mother and grip her arm.

"Listen to me. Are you listening?" she nods, alarmed. "You can't leave again."

Mother's eyes find the floor. "I know. I won't. I couldn't help- "

"Well, I'm sorry to break it to you, but you will have to help it this time. You can't leave Ryou by himself again now that I won't be here. No matter what happens, fight the urge!" My voice rose to a shout, betraying all my emotions.

She pulled her arm out of my grasp. "I was sick. I could've treated myself if I'd had the medicine I have now."

Perhaps she was telling the truth, but illness was one thing we – they, couldn't afford.

"Then take it, and take care of him!"

"I'll be all right, Bakura," insisted Ryou. "But you have to be careful too! You have a chance; you are so fast and nimble. Promise me you will try at least!"

I can't win. Ryou must know that. Many of my opponents come from wealthy districts where winning is an honor. The boys will be two or three times my size. The girls know twenty different ways to kill you with a knife. Of course, there will be people like me too. People to weed out before the real fun begins.

"Maybe," was my reply. I can hardly tell Mother to carry on if I already gave up. Besides, I had a feisty nature, and I would not go down without a fight. "Then we'd be as rich as that drunk Atemu."

"I don't care about money!" cried Ryou. "I just want you to come home unharmed. You will try, won't you? Really try?"

"Really, I swear," I said. And now, because of Ryou, I will have to.

And then the Peacekeeper is at the door, signaling our time is up, and we were all hugging each other, repeating the words "I love you so much."

The Peacekeeper calmly steps between us, effectively breaking us up. They exit and the door closes. I bury my head in the soft fabric of the pillows as if this can block out the whole thing, as if I could make this whole experience a nightmare; a mere hallucination.

I look up and sigh. It's no use.

_1305 words! Very long for me. _


	7. Last Goodbyes

_Disclaimer: no owns hunger games or yugioh, including its characters… _

_GOZEN NAZAAIIIII! (soorrrryyyyyy!)_

_I was, uh, very, um, busy. *dodges bullet* yeah, you've heard that excuse before. *sighs*_

_Anyways, onto the story._

I look up as someone else enters the room.

It was the baker, Yugi Moto's father. I could not get over the shock that he of all people came to visit me. After all, in a couple of days I would be trying to kill his daughter.

Of course, we do know each other a bit, and he knows Ryou even better. Whenever he sells the goat cheese at the Hob, Ryou would set aside two pieces just for him, and the baker in return would provide us with a generous amount of bread.

We always have to wait after his witch (and I want to add a crueler word that rhymes here) isn't around to trade with him. I was sure he would never have hit his daughter the way his wife did over the burnt bread. He was very kind, but why has he come to see me?

He sat awkwardly on one of the big, plush chairs. He was a big, broad-shouldered man with burn scars from years of working in the ovens.

He probably just bid farewell to his son.

He handed me a paper bag. Inside, I found a luxury we could never afford. Cookies.

"Thank you," I said quietly. He wasn't a very talkative man, and today he seemed to have put all his energy for words someplace else. "I had some of your bread this morning. My friend Akefia gave you a squirrel for it. It wasn't your best trade." I don't know why I said that. I wanted to lift the mood slightly, perhaps.

He shrugged as though it didn't matter.

We sat there in awkward silence until a Peacemaker summons him.

He coughed and rose to his feet.

"I'll keep an eye on the little guy. Make sure he's eating properly."

It took me a moment to realize that he was talking about Ryou, and when I did, I felt the pressure on my chest lifting.

People deal with me, but they are genuinely fond of Ryou. Perhaps there was enough fondness to keep him alive after I –

I shook my head. This was no time to be thinking of this.

"Thank you," I said as he walked out the door.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of the cookies and the perfume. It was like heaven. I was surrounded by such exotic items, and the sofa I was reclining on felt like soft clouds.

I hugged a pillow close to my body, buried my face in it, and gave a soft sob.

Then I looked up. That would be the last tear shed, I decided. Whatever happens from here on I will face with determination. I will not be weak anymore.

I took a deep breath and looked up at my next visitor.

"Rebecca?" I asked.

She walked over to me. She was not weepy or evasive; instead she held a tone of urgency that surprised me.

"They allow you to wear one thing in the arena; one thing to remind you of home. Please, Bakura, will you wear this?"

She holds out her hand. In her palm rests the pin on her dress from before. I look closely at it and realize it is a small bird in flight with an arrow in its beak.

"Your pin?" I asked. Wearing a token from my district was the last thing on my mind.

"Here, I'll pin it on for you, all right?" Saying so, she puts the small accessory on my shirt. "Promise me you will wear it in the arena, Bakura? Promise?"

"Yes," I said. I was receiving all sorts of gifts. Cookies, a pin; Rebecca gives me one more: a peck on the cheeks. She left and I realized that perhaps she had been my friend all along.

Finally Akefia is here and there is nothing (I repeat, nothing) between us but hunting partners, but we hugged anyways.

His body is familiar to me – the way it moves, the smell of wood smoke, even the beating of his heart I knew from the quiets moments of hunts – but this is the first time I truly felt it, lean and muscled against my own.

"Listen," he told me, "getting a knife should be easy, but what you need is a bow. That will be your best chance." 

"They don't always have bows," I said nervously, remembering a year when there were only horrible spiked maces the tributes had to use to kill each other.

"Then make one," Gale insisted. "Even a weak bow is better than no bow at all."

I have tried to make a bow before. It is not a simple piece of cake.

"There might not be wood," I remarked, remembering another year where the arena was flat, full of nothing but boulders, sand, and scruffy bushes. I particularly hated that year. Many contestants were bitten to death by venomous snakes or went insane from thirst.

"There's almost always wood," Gale said certainly. "Since that year half of them died from the cold. Not much entertainment there."

It's true. We spent one Hunger Games watching tributes freeze to death. You could hardly see them because they were huddled in balls with no source of warmth. The Capitol hated those quiet, bloodless deaths. Since then, there was almost always some firewood.

"Yes, there's usually some," I admitted.

"Bakura, it's just hunting, and you are the beat hunter I know."

"It's more complicated than that!" my voice on the edge of a whine. "They're armed, they think, they're trained!"

"So do you," he counters. "And you have had more practice. Real practice. You know how to kill. Put it to use, Bakura."

"Not people," I said.

"How different can it be," Akefia asked grimly. "Remember, if you don't kill them, they will kill you."

What scares me is that if I forget they are people, there really will be no difference at all.

The Peacemakers are back too soon and Akefia asked them for more time, but they took him away. I began to panic. "Don't let them starve," I cry, clinging to his hand.

"I won't, you know I won't! Bakura, remember that I - " and right at that moment, the door slammed in his face, and I will never know what exactly he wanted me to remember.

_You should all bow down and thank me. I forfeited a family trip to Great America to bring you this chapter._

_Ok, this was actually an excuse to not go to Great America._

_Good bye for now~!_

_Oh yeah. School will be starting soon, so updates will be coming at a snail's pace. Just warning you._


	8. The Train, pt 1

_Disclaimer: no owns hunger games or yugioh, including its characters… _

_GOZEN NAZAAIIIII! (soorrrryyyyyy!)_

_I was, uh, very, um, busy. *dodges bullet* yeah, you've heard that excuse before. *sighs*_

_Anyways, onto the story._

We rode in a car (never been in one before, and I would feel amazed had I not been about to die) and arrived at the train station in almost no time at all. I was skilled at wiping my face clear of emotions, but when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in one of the insect-like cameras of the reporters, I was amazed at how bored I looked.

Yugi, however, was a mess. Her hair was in her face, and the tears streaming downward looked as though it would form a river on her face. I wondered if this was her strategy: to appear weak and frightened in order to convince the other tributes to overlook her. This worked considerably well for a boy in district 7 a few years ago. He appeared like a sniveling coward, convincing all the other tributes to save their energy and not deal him until the end. It turned out she could kill viciously. But I doubted the strategy would work with Yugi. Being the daughter of a baker kept her well-fed, and it would take a lot of crying to convince even a fool to overlook her.

When we actually arrived at the train, we were forced to stand in front of the doors while the rest of Panem gobbled up our images. I locked eyes – well, my eyes to the screen – of one camera (operated by a lady) and gave a smirk.

My "fangs" showed as my smirk grew wider. The reporter gave a squeal and fainted. I was about to repeat the process when we were ushered rudely into the vehicle. I gave a scowl and stuck out my tongue at the closest camera. The door closed and the train began moving at once.

The speed was breathtaking, at least for me. I have never been on a train before, and our ordinary coal-transporting trains don't come close to even comparing with this one's speed. This Capitol model averages at 250 miles per hour, and our journey will take less than a day.

The tribute train is fancier than the room in the Justice Building. Yugi and I are each given a private chamber, completed with a bedroom, a dressing area, and a private bathroom with hot and cold running water. We don't have hot water at home, unless we boil it.

The drawers are practically overflowing with clothes, and yet it is still neat. Mai tells me to wear anything I want, do anything I want, just be ready for dinner in an hour. I take off my father's tuxedo and slip into the shower. It was enchanting, like being in a spring shower, only warmer.

It had to end, of course, and I slip into a black shirt complete with blue pants.

At the last moment I turn back for Rebecca's pin. I felt certain that if I forgot it, and if by some miracle I made it back to the district, she would kill me with her evil teddy bear.

For the first time I studied it carefully. It was beautiful, and looked as though someone crafted the small bird and attached it to a ring. I I suddenly recognized it: a mockingjay.

They're funny birds, and one of the few jabs we were able to make against the Capitol during the rebellion.

During the rebellion, the Capitol bred genetically altered creatures as weapons. The common term was "mutations," or "mutts" for short. One was a bird called a jabberjay.

The jabberjay had the ability to memorize and repeat whole human conversations. They were male, and were released into regions where the Capitol's enemies were thought to be hiding.

After the birds had recorded the conversations, they'd fly back to report their findings. It took people a while to realize what was happening, but once they did, they began feeding the Capitol lies.

At last, the Capitol realized that they were being tricked. In disgust, they abandoned the birds to die off in the wild.

Only they didn't die off. Instead, the jabberjays mated with mockingbirds, creating a new species with the ability to replicate both bird and human whistles. This species had lost the ability to repeat actual words, but could still mimic a range of human vocal sounds, from a child's high-pitched warble to a man's deep tones. They could also recreate songs. Not just a few simple notes, but whole songs with multiple verses, as long as you were willing to sing, and they liked your voice.

My father was very fond of mockingjays. Whenever he sang, the birds would fall silent and listen. Then they would replicate the melody. After he left, I could never bring myself to continue that practice. Still, there was something comforting about the little bird. I can almost imagine him with me, protecting me.

I fastened the pin to my shirt, and the black fabric caused the gold to stand out so very clearly.

I sigh and head out the door.

_I'm so sorry! But I DID warn you all…_

_I give my thanks to all of you who stayed with me. If you didn't, please, forgive me anyways._

_Short chapter after a long wait. Sorry!_


	9. The Train, pt 2

_Disclaimer: no owns hunger games or yugioh, including its characters… Hell, I don't even own the plot. I shall take credit for weaving the two plots together. I am merely one hell of a … um … storyteller? Well, here's the story. *runs away*_

_Ugh I just realized how my tenses are all screwed up (past, then present, the past again). I'm sorry, minna-san! Since no one complained, I am going to assume no one realized, so I shall not go back and fix it. I will try my hardest to stick to past tense from now on (it's hard because the book is in present tense and I suck at using present tense)._

When I opened the door, I saw Mai Valentine heading down the hallway. She announced it was suppertime and led me to the exquisite dining room on the train.

The dining room was amazing. The walls were polished, paneled. Compare that to the rotting walls back home! The curtains were a mysterious shade of blue. It was drawn back to reveal the scenery outside that was speeding past us. The moon and stars followed us through our journey to our final destination. I tore my gaze away from this and sat down at the table.

The table was a circle in the center of the room. In its center was a fantastic ivory piece, carved in the shape of a tree growing amidst delicate pieces of grass, both drained of color.

There were four seats: one for each tribute, the mentor, and the guide from the Capitol.

The dishes were very delicate, very beautiful. I sat to Yugi's right, Mai sat to his left.

"Where's Yami?" Mai asked.

"He said he was going to take a nap," Yugi replied quietly.

I wondered briefly if Yami would do us all the favor of lying down eternally and prevent the district from further embarrassment, but quickly pushed that thought away.

"Well, I don't blame him. It's been quite a busy day, eh?" Mai asked. I swear I saw her bite back a sigh of relief. Then again, who could blame her for thinking that way?

The supper comes in courses. Beautiful courses, one after another, like the chapters of a wonderfully written book or like layers in one of those cakes Yugi's father sells.

Thick carrot soup, so different from the watery mixture I was used to. Green salad, fresh, refreshing. Lamb chops and mashed potatoes, cheeses and fruits, a rich chocolate cake, just to list a few of the foods we were served. It was like we had entered heaven.

Mai reminded us several times to save some space for even better foods to come later on.

I ignore her advice and stuff myself full of delicacies ranging from cake to fish, from meat to vegetables. Hey, the best thing I can do now is try to put on a few pounds between now and the Games.

Even the thought of the Games were pushed out of my mind in favor of food, so much and so good.

"At least you two have good manners," noted Mai approvingly as we finished our first course. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands. I was not able to eat anything else for days."

I had scowled slightly at her comment. Of course the two from last year were not able to control themselves! They never had enough to eat in their lives, not even one day! They lived by simple rules of survival, one of which was probably: eat whatever is placed in front of you.

Yugi's a baker's daughter. She never had to worry about enough food, even if the food wasn't good, even if it was stale.

Mother had taught Ryou and me to eat like humans. Manners mattered a lot to her, I don't know why.

However, I despised Mai's comment so much, for the rest of the meal, I made a point to smear the sauces everywhere, burped several times, used my fingers to eat, chewed with my mouth open wide, and finished with using the tablecloth as a napkin.

I gave her satisfied, cheeky smile and rested my feet on the table after everything had been removed.

I felt slightly ill at that point. My stomach wasn't used to this type of food. I risked a glance at Yugi and saw that she was a bit green as well. My eyes wandered over to Mai and I scowled when I saw that she was feeling fine.

Mai stood up after about five minutes of this and led us to another compartment.

We followed her to a room where we could watch the reapings live.

One by one, we saw the names of our competition. Some were volunteers, most were not. Quite a few refused to leave my mind.

A crazy-haired boy who shoved many others aside to volunteer from District 2 named Marik. A creepy (crazy) Asian girl named Vivian from District 5. A boy with a twisted ankle – District 10 – Weevil.

The one that haunted me most, however, was the girl from 11 – Mana. She possessed chocolate-y skin, eyes, and hair. She was very much like Ryou in size and attitude. No one volunteered for her. She wasn't as lucky as Ryou.

They show district twelve – I do not look that weak, that desperate! – and I see a replay of events.

The anthem began and we turn off the television.

"My wig!" Mai cried. "I need to have a serious talk with my stylist."

Yugi and I stifle a laugh.

"Your mentor, look at the state he was in!" cried Mai.

"Oh, he's just drunk. If you ask me, he was actually trying to pull it together today," giggled Yugi.

"He's drunk every day," I added smirking.

"Oh you two are hopeless! Do you not realize that your mentor is your lifeline in the Games?"

"Hey, di' I miss an'thing?" slurred Yami, sliding into the room. Then he vomits all over the expensive carpet, drawing more laughter out of Yugi and me.

"Y- you two are…" Mai seemed to be at a loss for words for the first time. Then her expression hardens. "Go ahead, laugh! It's you who will face the consequences, not me!" With that she flees the room in her high heels.

I stick my tongue out after her and blow a loud raspberry.

Then we turn our attention back to our mentor.


End file.
